


Attention, please.

by sixteenpsyche



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, This is 6.6K of smut I'm sorry, Threesome - M/M/M, pilot AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 02:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11796924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixteenpsyche/pseuds/sixteenpsyche
Summary: “Eight o’clock?” Chanyeol repeats suddenly, incredulous. “We’re gonna gangbang you, baby, not have a late dinner.”-(Park Chanyeol and Kim Jongin are pilots, Do Kyungsoo is a flight attendant, and teamwork most certainly does make the dream work.)





	Attention, please.

Kyungsoo hates working First Class. 

Business Class is fine, occupied mostly by tired salarymen making domestic flights on company time, and couples splurging on marginally less depressing accommodations. Working Coach is, of course, exhausting and at times borderline humiliating, but First Class is tedious, thankless, and always leaves him with a residue of bourgeoise guilt. His colleagues - all female - expressed envy at his exclusive assignment to the cabin of the rich and insufferable, but on hour six of the transpacific flight from San Francisco to Narita International, Kyungsoo finds himself ready to hide in the toilet rather than continue to brave the lascivious looks of middle-aged, closeted white men who are drinking far too much.

"Should I cut him off?" Kyungsoo is loitering around in the cockpit for the third time in as many hours, but neither pilot has expressed exasperation with his presence, so he takes advantage of the implied permission. 

First Officer Kim, co-piloting today, offers Kyungsoo the same bright smile he always does when the flight attendant complains about the indignation of his job. "I don't know. I mean, is there a procedure in place for these situations?"

The sky is still blue and the cloud cover is sparse. Another eight hours to Japan. Kyungsoo wrinkles his nose. "Well, yeah, but I can't exactly go out there and read him the manual. He has a job at Google or something, don't you know?"

"Rich! And perfect job security. Sounds like husband material, to me." First Officer Kim smirks, one corner of his mouth curling up while the other threatens to mirror the movement. His jokes are often tactless, but never said with malicious intent.

"Don't laugh at me, Jongin," Kyungsoo deadpans, crossing his arms over his chest. "He's already married, if his ring is anything to go by. And he looks a little like William H. Macy.”

“William H. Macy? They let people that old work at Google?" Captain Park briefly turns his head to look at Kyungsoo, eyebrows slightly raised.

Jongin laughs. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, and sucks his teeth, sounding much more annoyed than he actually is.

“I don't know. He just has that kind of face." A comfortable silence falls over the room as Jongin turns back toward the sky. Kyungsoo lingers a little longer, watching the clouds roll by. Eventually, he clears his throat, and speaks again, reluctantly. “Ah. I’ll be going now. Let me know if you need another gin and tonic, Captain Park.” 

Jongin laughs, again, almost a guffaw. He’s always laughing. The back of Kyungsoo’s neck heats as he leaves the cockpit, letting the door click softly behind him.

— 

The penthouse suite of the Narita Hilton lacks the spectacular amenities of the more expensive and renowned hotels in Tokyo proper, but it is still one of the nicer places Kyungsoo has spent the night. He sprawls out on the California King bed and immediately turns the mounted 4K TV on. Upon arrival in Japan, he made a beeline for the hotel, fully prepared to enjoy his mandated vacation in one of his favorite countries. The shower in the room is overly-large, and Captain Park half-joked upon seeing it that it could fit, “at least four Japanese prostitutes and one john, comfortably”. It was definitely plenty spacious to accommodate Kyungsoo and the two airmen. 

The bed dips, and Kyungsoo looks to his right and sees Jongin settling in, phone in hand. He didn’t dry off properly, so droplets of water fall regularly from the tips of his hair to the pillowcase, which Kyungsoo watches with mild annoyance. Jongin sounds tired when he speaks up, “Hey, can I have the remote for a sec? Chelsea is playing—“ 

Kyungsoo immediately turns away, and wordlessly tucks the remote under the blanket on his side. Jongin’s laugh betrays an edge of irritation, but he doesn’t complain. “Okay then. I’ll check the scores online.”

The room is silent again save for the acoustic duet on Music Station. Kyungsoo pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose in an attempt to focus, but his eyelids soon become heavy, and he slips into a dreamless sleep. 

—

Kyungsoo spends the entirety of the following day in the penthouse, running up mineral water and food charges on Captain Park’s American Express Centurion card. He considers ordering wagyū pâté for lunch, but sticks with lighter fare in anticipation of the evening’s events. He is finishing a slice of honeydew cake when his phone’s text tone alerts him to a new message from Park Chanyeol.

> what are you doing? are you coming out? we’re in shibuya

Kyungsoo licks the spoon and places it gently on the rim of the crystal dish.

> I’m not in Shibuya, 

he replies, easily. The near-instantaneous response makes him snort.

> what does that mean? 

a ten second pause,

> where are you?

Kyungsoo waits until the TV news moves on to the next segment before responding. 

> I don’t know, hyung. Where am I? 

he licks his lips, still a little hungry but resisting the urge to order another dessert.

The typing indices toggle on and off for two minutes as Captain Park considers his response.

> okay… are we still on for tonight?

> Sure. Just knock before you come in. And bring me back something nice, okay? 

Kyungsoo sets his alarm for 6PM and settles in for a mid-afternoon nap.

—

The digital clock readout displays the time - 9:34PM. Kyungsoo huffs in annoyance, increasingly convinced the pilots won’t show up at all. He pictures the two of them at some seedy gay bar in Shibuya, doing shots, karaoke, and maybe something more with pretty Japanese boys. 

He slowly lifts himself off the bed, feeling lethargic, the nervous energy of anticipation by now almost completely dissipated. The bathroom is well-lit, and Kyungsoo takes a few moments to admire how exceedingly small his pores are - truly, his face is wasted on a duo of assholes who refuse to even text him an ETA. He’s hungry, bodily uncomfortable, and annoyed at himself for putting so much effort into getting ready for something that clearly is not going to go down as planned.

Back in the bedroom, he grabs the service phone and calls the front desk for what feels like the tenth time that day, but he has never had any insecurities about being high-maintenance. In near-perfect Japanese, he orders a bottle of Champagne Krug and one flute. He swears he can hear a cartoonish cash register noise as yet another luxury is billed to the captain. 

Thirty minutes later, and “it’s too late to fuck” territory is rapidly approaching. The champagne is pleasantly dry and goes down with the ease expected of a 300$ bottle sold at a steep markup. Kyungsoo is standing less than a meter away from the enormous television, close enough to see all the detail of the film playing without wearing his glasses. He clutches the empty flute in his right hand, and the neck of the fat, half-full bottle in the left. The hem of Captain Park’s dress shirt skirts at the tops of his thighs, and the plug holding his ass open is beginning to feel pointedly insistent, tugging against his inner walls as he shifts listlessly from one foot to the other.

He’s seriously considering dead-bolting the door and masturbating himself to sleep when he finally hears the rapping of knuckles against the door. Immediately, he puts everything down on the dresser and turns the television off, scrambling onto the bed and settling directly in the center, legs folded beneath his body, knees resting against the white sheets. His expression settles into a trained passivity. 

Soon, two tall and surprisingly sober men are spilling into bedroom. Jongin has a large, paper boutique sack in one hand, and a black bottle of Brut in the other. Captain Park’s hands are empty. The latter grins at Kyungsoo, and jumps on the bed, the force of it almost toppling them both.

“Hey, baby. You been sitting like that all night?” They all know the answer, so Kyungsoo doesn’t bother speaking. A large hand settles on his bare thigh, and Kyungsoo sighs, doing his best to express his disappointment. “Sorry we’re late. Saturday night in Shibuya is some wacky shit, right, Jongin?”

The other pilot doesn’t respond at first - he is investigating the Champagne Krug on the dresser, comparing the label to that on the bottle of Brut he brought. When he does reply, it is quietly, a half-interested non-answer, “You got started early, jagi?” He places the unopened bottle next to the half-empty one, and sets the paper bag on the floor before turning to face the bed, fully. “Are you drunk, Soo-ah?”

Chanyeol’s lips are pressed to Kyungsoo’s bare shoulder, exposed after the pilot worked the open dress shirt down the attendant’s arms. His right hand is resting against Kyungsoo’s throat like a promise. 

Kyungsoo’s voice remains steady. “No. I was just bored and tired of waiting for you two, so I decided I was going to have a drink, then go to sleep.” 

Jongin approaches the bed, planting his hands on the edge, crouching so his eyes are level with Kyungsoo’s. “Oh? Did we keep you waiting? Are you angry with us? Chanyeol hyung, I think we fucked up.” 

Chanyeol finishes sucking a hickey onto Kyungsoo’s neck before he acknowledges Jongin. “What time did you think we’d be here, Soo-ah?” He kisses the mole on the smaller man’s ear before moving to nose at his hair. “You smell incredible,” he murmurs, and it sends a chill down Kyungsoo’s spine. His voice falters a little when he answers,

“I don’t know. Eight?”

“Eight o’clock?” Chanyeol repeats suddenly, incredulous. “We’re gonna gangbang you, baby, not have a late dinner.”

Kyungsoo bites his lip to keep from snapping at him; it’s too early to be mouthy. Jongin settles on the bed completely, opposite Chanyeol. He appears uncharacteristically intense, and his response to the captain reflects his apparently dark mood. “It’s not a gangbang if only three people are involved, idiot. It’s a threesome.”

Chanyeol doesn’t take the bait, instead focusing on pressing his hand against Kyungsoo’s throat while he nibbles and kisses and teases. That familiar flush of arousal builds in Kyungsoo’s chest, and he keens under the attention. 

“You know you can never fuck yourself like we fuck you, right?”

Kyungsoo snorts, derisively, but offers no comment, and no disagreement. Jongin laughs, and it’s sweet, and that makes Kyungsoo feel better. The first officer’s hands find their way to Kyungsoo’s soft hips, thumbing over the barely-visible bones there. Kyungsoo’s dick stirs in interest, and he jerks involuntarily, the four big hands exploring his body making him feel almost unbearably warm. 

He sighs through his nose, melting against the solid body behind him, but he’s startled out of his bliss when the bed shifts again, and Jongin is up and moving away from them. Kyungsoo doesn’t bother looking up - he knows he’ll be back. So he kisses Chanyeol, allowing the other man to make him feel warm all over, warm enough for two, like he’s the most important person in the room, in the city, in their hemisphere - it’s almost too tender, but he’s not one to deny affection. 

Kyungsoo is only half-listening when Jongin speaks up, voice calm and clear from across the room. “We forgot to congratulate you on a successful flight, Kyungsoo-yah. You know, the air crew isn’t the pilots only; having talented, knowledgeable attendants is just as important, isn’t it, Captain Park?” 

“It sure is, First Officer Kim.” There’s laughter in Chanyeol’s voice, but Jongin doesn’t probe. Instead, he picks up the bottle of champagne he left on the dresser, and turns it over in his hands once, then again, as if he is considering a task of great importance. 

He gets an idea, and it’s exciting, so puts the bottle down again, and begins undressing himself. Kyungsoo might complain about not being able to do it, to run his hands across the well-developed muscles of Jongin’s chest and arms before pulling his shirt off, but he will survive. Even Do Kyungsoo doesn’t always get what he wants.

Back on the bed, Chanyeol is moving again, nudging Kyungsoo and encouraging him to flip over. Kyungsoo does, lazily, moving so his knees are resting in the space between Chanyeol’s spread thighs. He slouches, and Chanyeol takes him into his arms, throwing off his center of gravity so Kyungsoo falls into him. The smaller man loops his arms around Chanyeol’s neck, and they’re kissing, and he’s giggling at the awkward position, clinging to his boyfriend. Chanyeol allows it for a few moments more, before breaking the kiss and manipulating Kyungsoo’s pliant body back into a kneeling position. 

“Be good. Sit up.” Kyungsoo doesn’t argue, and he does his best to keep upright while Chanyeol teases at his nipples, sucking and licking, gently. Kyungsoo whines at the attention, all irritation he had at their situation now totally vanished. He badly wants the pilot to play with his cock, but he knows it’s far too early for that, even for him. So he settles for curling his toes and pressing pink crescents into Chanyeol’s back with his nails. The room is silent except for their panting and the wet noise of mouth-on-flesh, and when Kyungsoo realizes that, he turns his head to look at Jongin, who is standing closer now, again at the foot of the bed, watching them. He’s holding the bottle of Brut by the neck, and Kyungsoo can make out the shape of his cock imprinted against his boxers. 

“Jongin?” As Kyungsoo says it, he drags his nails across Chanyeol’s back, harder, needy and a little frustrated. “What are you doing?” 

“Watching you, Soo-ah. You’re so perfect, do you know that?” Kyungsoo nods and Jongin smiles. He seems more relaxed now, more open. “Like I said, we want to congratulate you for doing so well, even though we know you hate first class.” 

The warmth in his tone makes Kyungsoo’s throat feel tight, and he looks away, back to the captain. He doesn’t protest and say, ‘it’s just my job’, because he likes to be praised, and they all know it. 

So he doesn’t deny the praise, and he allows Chanyeol to continue playing with his now-stiff nipples, leaning into the ministrations, and shivers when he feels the captain man mumble against his skin in agreement. Kyungsoo looks down at Chanyeol, briefly, and his heart skips a beat, seeing those big, brown eyes staring back at him, pupils blown wide with lust. 

Meanwhile, behind them, Jongin is shaking the bottle slowly, as quietly as he can, stopping only when Kyungsoo turns to look at him again.

“What are you doing there? Come on, I don’t wanna drink anymore. I’ll get sleepy. Put that away.” Kyungsoo’s voice is playful, protesting in the way he knows Jongin likes, expects. Never saying yes too easily. 

“We’re not gonna drink it, Soo-ah.” Jongin pauses. “Get on your hands and knees.” 

It sounds purposefully menacing, and Kyungsoo struggles, falling onto his hip, against Chanyeol. “Fuck off.”

Chanyeol laughs. “It’s not that, Kyungsoo-yah, come on. We’d never hurt you. You trust us, right? And if you don’t like it, you can always say our special word and we’ll stop. Isn’t that true?” 

Kyungsoo nods, but he doesn’t make to move into the position. “Tell me what you’re gonna do, first.”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I don’t want that anywhere near my ass.”

Jongin laughs, genuinely, breaking character. “Soo, I swear to god I’m not going to try and fuck you with this. Stop being irrational.”

After a long moment of consideration, Kyungsoo nods. “Fine.” He moves back, getting onto his knees, and placing his palms on either side of Chanyeol’s hips. Their faces are once again aligned, and Chanyeol steals a kiss, smiling into it. 

“Relax.” Another kiss, this time longer, with Chanyeol’s tongue pressing against the bottom edges of Kyungsoo’s teeth, making the boy huff in protest. He wants to run his fingers through the attendant’s thick, black hair, to unravel the carefully styled strands so Kyungsoo looks as desperate as he’s beginning to sound. Instead, Chanyeol tugs at the top of Kyungsoo’s left ear, and nibbles at the opposite corner of his mouth before pulling away.

Chanyeol takes his own shirt off, and Kyungsoo licks his lips at the sight. Sometimes the captain is too busy to work out, but he’s kept his new year’s resolution for eight months, and he looks fantastic, his biceps and pecs and torso all looking noticeably defined even in the uninspiring lighting of the hotel bedroom. Kyungsoo knows Chanyeol stays in shape for him, just like Jongin does, and it makes him feel powerful in a way he cannot articulate even to himself.

He’s lost in admiration when it hits him - a loud pop followed by a cold rush of liquid and bubbles against his ass. Kyungsoo yelps and struggles, but Jongin is holding those slim ankles in place with his knees, and Chanyeol’s got a tight hold on his wrists. He curses at them, and they’re laughing - Jongin is lightly slapping Kyungsoo’s ass and slowly pouring the remainder of the champagne over his ass so it drips down his thighs, soaking the bed. Almost as quickly as it began, the action subsides, and the men loose their hold on Kyungsoo. The attendant doesn’t struggle to get away, instead settling his head on Chanyeol’s lap, breathing heavily, trying to hide his smile.

“I’m all sticky now…” Kyungsoo mumbles, faking dejection. Chanyeol slides his hand under his lover’s chin and bends so he can meet his lips. The kiss is sweet, and needy, and so fond that when Chanyeol pulls away, he can feel himself blushing. 

“Have you two finished being immature? Can we move on now? Are we just gonna fuck in this big wet spot or what?” He receives no answer, but he soon feels Jongin’s lips press against his tailbone, then lower, and lower, until his mouth his fitted against Kyungsoo’s now-wet hole.

“Jesus,” Jongin breathes as soon as he sees the pink base of the plug. “You’re such a good boy, Soo-ah. Always prepared, huh?”

Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything, nuzzling his face against Chanyeol’s bare thigh. 

Jongin kisses his hip and praises him quietly before clicking the cap on the bottle of lube Kyungsoo left on the bed open, and coating his fingers. “I’m gonna take this plug out, okay?”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

As soon as the thin plug slips out and he feels the cool wetness of the lube against his hole, Kyungsoo is ready. He reaches back to ease his index and middle fingers into himself, huffing at the stretch. He considered using a more substantial toy, but decided against it, wanting to feel every centimeter of Chanyeol and Jongin opening him up. He knows they won’t be too gentle, he knows they’ll fuck him like he needs, so it burns a little more than it should, so he can focus on the stretch, and give his men the attention they deserve for being so brave, and so good at their job. Keep those eyes on the sky, boys.

“Does that feel good, Soo-ah? You’ll tell us when you’re ready, right?” Jongin studies Kyungsoo’s flushed face, watches how his expression slackens into bliss, and then frustration, when he finds that spot, almost, but not quite.

“Yeah. Yeah,” comes the reply, flippant, breathless, distracted.

Jongin and Chanyeol never insist that Kyungsoo wait for them, and as a result, sometimes the boy makes himself come before they even get started, exhausted and greedy. He isn’t overly active in bed, preferring to be the focus of attention, getting so fucked out he can barely move by the time his partner is finishing. Sticky and used.

Chanyeol fits his teeth against Kyungsoo’s shoulder and presses into the skin, too lightly to leave a mark, but hard enough to jog Kyungsoo out of his reverie. The attendant pauses in fingering himself, and finds Chanyeol’s gaze. He’s met with a look so dark and intent it startles him, and he breaks the eye contact.  
“What?”

Chanyeol’s voice is steady and firm. “That’s enough. Now, go wash your hands, then come back here.” 

Kyungsoo blushes, embarrassed, “I’m clean, I swear —“ he hisses when he feels the fat on his hip being pinched, and scrambles, “Fine!” He scoots off the edge of the bed, careful not to touch anything, and heads toward the bathroom. It isn’t far, but it seems like it takes forever, because Kyungsoo feels so exposed, so self-conscious about the way his ass jiggles when he walks, unable to see how the men on the bed are staring at him, but knowing they are. Chanyeol always commits more than Jongin, and demanding Kyungsoo clean himself up in the middle of sex isn’t an uncommonly deployed obedience measure.

The water is too hot, but Kyungsoo doesn’t adjust the temperature. He washes for thirty seconds, counting down in his head, looking at his reflection - composed to the point of docility, perfectly made-up, and not a hair out of place. It does not reflect how absolutely wrecked and filthy he feels. The room is quiet except for the sound of the lathering and washing. Kyungsoo wishes he heard one of them sneaking up behind him, to grab him and shove him in the shower, or fuck him over the toilet. But he hears nothing. 

His hands are pink and toweled dry when he turns to face the bed. He doesn’t have his contacts in, so he can’t read the expressions of the men on the bed. He hopes they’re pleased, he hopes their pupils are still blown wide with lust. He sees Jongin’s hand move to his cock before Chanyeol speaks again, and diverts Kyungsoo’s attention.  
“Crawl back.” 

Some small part of Kyungsoo wants to reply with a ‘fuck you’, or maybe by sucking teeth and ignoring him, walking back with his head held high. He doesn’t, though, instead immediately falling to his knees like he’s been programmed to obey his master’s voice. It’s worth it, because tamping down his own stubbornness in favor of pleasing his boyfriends is (almost) always the correct choice.

This drive to submit comes on gradually, as Kyungsoo acclimates to the soft commands he’s given, coaxed into compliance by the men he trusts won’t abuse their power over him. He feels warm all over as he begins to crawl, palms flat on the carpet, eyes fixed on his destination.

“Fuck. Jesus, Chanyeol.” Jongin’s voice falters, and Kyungsoo envisions that big, tan hand moving a little more quickly over his cock. 

When he’s at the edge of the bed, he sits up on his knees and doesn’t make a sound. There is a long moment of inaction before Chanyeol is off the bed and behind him. Then, with no warning, Kyungsoo is being lifted into the air and tossed belly-down onto the mattress. He protests from the shock of it, but the rush of arousal that builds in his groin softens the complaint to a needy mewl. He loves being manhandled, being small enough for Chanyeol and Jongin to pick up and physically manipulate in any way they see fit. He feels the pilot’s big presence behind him, and he braces himself, hands twisting in the sheets.

“Good boy,” Jongin, now in front on him, mumbles, reaching over the rub his shoulders, then the back of his neck, which quickly turns into a familiar insistence. Kyungsoo lifts his head to look at Jongin before propping himself up on his elbows and sliding, just a little, toward Jongin’s body. His sweaty hands meet the firm flesh of Jongin’s thighs, and he sighs in contentment at how very perfect the co-pilot feels and looks and smells and, he knows, will taste. 

A beautiful, lean, defined body, like the soccer players Kyungsoo would bring himself off thinking about in high school. Like his first boyfriend, who quickly developed an interest in going to the gym when he noticed how Kyungsoo looked at said soccer players. A perfect male specimen in front and behind, and it makes his head feel light, like it’s a dream, because this reality is better than his very best high school fantasies. And he suspects it’s the same for them, from the way they so easily get so hard and dripping for him.

Jongin’s hands are urging him down, and Kyungsoo takes the hint. His tongue meets the head of the long, stiff cock just inches from his face. Jongin isn’t vocal in bed, not like Chanyeol can be, but he hisses under his breath, approvingly. He likes to be sucked slowly at first, so that when Kyungsoo starts pushing himself to gagging and drooling and coughing, it feels like a real progression, like they’re both losing control.

Chanyeol, on the other hand, makes no pretenses about what any of them want. He slaps his hand against the flesh of Kyungsoo’s ass as soon and the boy commences sucking Jongin’s cock, and Kyungsoo wags his hips in response, egging him on. Chanyeol’s hand makes contact, again, and when he pulls away, his fingers are slightly sticky from the champagne and sweat. He pauses to watch, with only the slightest hint of jealousy at how Kyungsoo takes Jongin so expertly and fits between his legs as if they were meant to be slotted together. Chanyeol considers his next move before reaching across the bed for the bottle of lube. 

He taps Kyungsoo’s thigh, and the attendant obeys immediately, lifting his ass into the air and spreading his legs. He does not look back, still focused on pleasing Jongin, a little too nosily for his enthusiasm to be completely authentic. Chanyeol spreads Kyungsoo’s cheeks apart and admires his hairless, relaxed hole before bending close and blowing a sharp puff of air against the ring of muscle. Kyungsoo clenches, reflexively, and Chanyeol pulls away, pleased.

Once Kyungsoo is wet - but not too wet - and three of Chanyeol’s fingers are slick to the knuckles, he goes in for the stretch, easing his forefinger in. He’s impatient, more so than usual, but he does not want to hurt Kyungsoo, who is so little and so tight and so, so sensitive to feeling every callus —

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo gasps, pulling off of Jongin’s dick for the first time since he began, replacing his mouth with his hand. He looks back at the captain and curses again, lips red and puffy and shining with spit. Chanyeol near-growls in response, and slides another digit in alongside the first. Kyungsoo whines, genuinely, because Chanyeol’s hands are much bigger than his own. He presses his hips back and turns to look up at Jongin, who is focusing on monitoring Chanyeol’s progress. 

“Jonginnie.” Chanyeol’s voice startles both of the other men on the bed, and Jongin moves his hand to the back of Kyungsoo’s neck, encouraging him to resume his work with a gentle nudge. When the attendant’s lips are wrapped around his erection again, he answers, “What?”, eyes not leaving where Chanyeol has scissored in a third finger, and is flicking his wrist to fuck in and out of the small body between them. 

“Keep him quiet.” Kyungsoo hears the telltale sound of a condom being freed from its wrapper.

Jongin’s voice betrays how carefully he is attempting to control himself. “I’ll try.”

With that, Chanyeol is slicking his cock, and lining it up with Kyungsoo’s hole. Kyungsoo is about to speak, to encourage him, when he feels Jongin’s left hand on the back of his head again, and sees that Jongin’s right hand is gripping his own cock, encouraging the two to meet. Soon, the attendant is quiet except for the noises he’s making struggling against his reflex to gag, working up to the drooling, sloppy blowjob he knows drives Jongin crazy. When he feels the head of Chanyeol’s cock breach his ring of muscle, he sucks harder, and Jongin groans, canting his hips up once, twice. Both men begin fucking into him, and Kyungsoo’s eyes roll back, body going limp when Chanyeol’s fingertips squeeze into the softness of his hips, and Jongin stops controlling himself, tugging on the hair at the back of Kyungsoo’s head, now totally unconcerned about destroying that perfect coiffure. 

None of them say anything - Kyungsoo would, he wants to, but the dick now threatening to slip into his throat garbles his pleas for more, harder, deeper. Chanyeol snarls, at the edge of his self-control, before forcing himself to slow, curving his body so his chest is almost flush with Kyungsoo’s back. He kisses the boy’s shoulder, then his neck, and watches his throat and lips work Jongin's cock. He wants to pull Kyungsoo off him, to covet his mouth, to lick along Jongin’s dick himself, to taste them both. He looks up at Jongin, making eye contact.

“Does his mouth feel as good as his cunt does?”

Jongin swallows, audibly. His voice is hushed. “I don't know. Wanna switch?” 

Kyungsoo rolls his hips at that, encouraging, as always. Chanyeol lifts up again, big hands moving to circle at Kyungsoo’s slim waist. He attempts to make his hands meet, for just a moment, before pulling away and slipping out of the boy. He rolls the condom off and tosses it toward the wastebasket, missing the target handily. Chanyeol sucks his teeth.

“Come on, it’s my turn with his mouth.”

It’s Kyungsoo who pulls off first, moving away from Jongin to support himself on his elbows and knees. He balances, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and offers Jongin a lopsided smile, as cutely as he can muster. It works, it’s adorable, and Jongin gives him a kiss on the forehead before getting up to move behind him. Chanyeol immediately replaces Jongin’s spot in front of Kyungsoo, and leans to capture his mouth in a kiss, tongue probing, trying to taste the other pilot’s cock.

While the other two wrestle orally, Jongin pinches the tip of his condom, and coats both the latex and Kyungsoo’s twitching hole generously before pushing in, with little fanfare. Immediately, he’s hunching over so he can reach around to grasp Kyungsoo’s cock, trying to work him to hardness. When the boy feels Jongin’s hand on him there, he jerks away from the kiss, moving to give the captain’s fat dick some attention to move things forward. 

He attempts to spit on Chanyeol’s erection, but he can’t work up enough saliva, so instead he opens his mouth as wide and he can and looks up at the older man, who accepts the invitation by pinching the bridge of Kyungsoo’s nose and slipping his dick into the wet, willing hole. There’s a brief scramble before Kyungsoo stills and relaxes his throat. Chanyeol pulls his hand away from the attendant’s nose, and moves it to the back of his head instead, holding Kyungsoo in place. Kyungsoo is blinking tears of effort away, and trying actively not to gag, wanting so badly to be matchless at this, at making them feel good, to impress these men who so clearly deserve to be treated well.

Jongin sits up again, pulling Kyungsoo slightly back with him, and begins moving his hips, sharply, fucking up and into the boy. Kyungsoo loses contact with Chanyeol’s cock, and curses, goading Jongin on, voice hoarse and already fucked-out. Chanyeol waits for a minute, watching the way Jongin’s handsome brow beads with sweat and furrows in concentration, before tapping Kyungsoo on the cheek with his cock. Kyungsoo whines, but bows his head and kisses at the captain’s arousal, eagerly, shaping his tongue into a hard, flat plane, then alternating with kittenish licks. Chanyeol allows this for a minute, maybe two, before forcing Kyungsoo’s head down onto his erection until the boy gags again. 

Kyungsoo loves getting wrecked from both ends, but it's exhausting, and soon enough he’s pulling away from Chanyeol, sitting up, waving the pilots’ hands away. “Enough. Don’t wanna do it like this.” Jongin wraps his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist and rolls his hips up, thrusting into the boy more slowly. He sucks at the juncture between Kyungsoo’s neck and shoulder, then noses up to area behind his ear, where his hair is now damp from sweat. Kyungsoo doesn’t like sweating, Jongin knows, so he’s getting irritable - in ten minutes, he’ll be wanting to finish, to come and then take a cold shower. 

“How do you wanna do it, then, baby?” Jongin mumbles, and his heart skips a beat at how Kyungsoo falls back into him, completely pliant and willing and stretched out around his cock. He makes a noncommittal sound, and they’re all quiet for a long moment before Chanyeol speaks up. 

“Do you want me inside you, Soo-ah?” Chanyeol asks, voice soft, hand working slowly on his own erection. 

Kyungsoo nods, and Jongin bristles at the thought of having to switch places again. Before he can counter, Chanyeol is speaking again, “Do you want Jonginnie inside you, too?”

Another nod, with no hesitation. Oh.

Chanyeol is close to them now, again, and Kyungsoo reaches for him. They make contact, kissing, and Jongin has to keep a tight grip on Kyungsoo’s pelvis to keep him down. Chanyeol pulls away and Kyungsoo’s complaining, again, and moving too much, and Jongin’s definitely leaving bruises now, trying to prevent him from breaking away, but Kyungsoo doesn’t ask him to stop. 

Chanyeol surprises them both when he lays flat on the bed and takes Kyungsoo’s half-hard dick into his mouth. The attendant jerks and immediately claws at Chanyeol’s exposed back, leaving deep red lines alongside those imprints he left earlier. He turns his head to look at Jongin, and Jongin begins fucking him again, working back up to where they left off. Soon, their mouths are meeting, and Kyungsoo’s is wide open against Jongin’s, moaning and panting and making filthy comments 

(Yeah, yeah, fuck, Captain, Captain Park, suck my cock, you’re so good at that, you’re so, fuck, has he ever done this to you, Jongin, he’s so, he’s so, he’s so good—)

It doesn't take long before Kyungsoo is coming - he’s overly sensitive and reactive during sex, and he always, always comes first.

Chanyeol pulls away and Jongin stops moving, allowing Kyungsoo to catch his breath. Jongin admires how beautiful his boyfriend looks after he comes, how prettily he fans himself with his hands, trying to cool down and recollect. He’s dewy and gorgeous and Jongin is fascinated by that, by how effortlessly perfect he looks, acts, is. 

Once Kyungsoo’s breathing is steady, Jongin resumes. He’s close, too, but he knows there is one more thing he has to hold out for. Chanyeol is tearing another condom from its wrapper, and wetting his fingers and his dick with lube. Kyungsoo closes his eyes and rolls head head back, to rest against Jongin’s shoulder. He licks his lips.

“Hurry up and fucking wreck me. Both of you. I’m ready.”

Chanyeol laughs. “No, you’re not.” 

“I don’t care. I’ll take it. I can take it. Make me like it.”

Jongin inhales, sharply. “Stop,” he admonishes the attendant, gently. “Be patient.”

Kyungsoo whines, but doesn’t argue.

Chanyeol kisses Kyungsoo’s jaw, and whispers something Jongin can’t hear. Then, he slides a finger into the boy, alongside Jongin’s cock, and Kyungsoo doesn’t react beyond a long exhale through his nose. He doesn’t open his eyes. Jongin whispers something into his ear that Chanyeol can’t hear.

The stretch is slow, and careful, and the sound of it shouldn’t arouse Jongin as much as it does. By the time Chanyeol slips three fingers out and replaces them with the tip of his dick, Kyungsoo is breathing erratically, excited, full of that anticipation that was amping him up all evening. Chanyeol is comforting him verbally while Jongin pets his hair and sucks on the lobe of his ear. 

They all lose control, simultaneously, when Chanyeol manages to push the whole head of his cock in, and Jongin cannot help how his hips stutter violently at how almost-unbearably tight and hot everything suddenly feels. Chanyeol is groaning through gritted teeth, and Kyungsoo is begging them for something even he doesn’t understand.

Soon, the glide is easier, and Kyungsoo is pliant and cooing, and Jongin very much wants Chanyeol to lean down and try to kiss him, so he can bite him, or maybe kiss him back, but they’re helpless to do anything except crush Kyungsoo’s little body between them, filling him until it hurts, until it’s far beyond too much, making him feel exactly as small and helpless as he begs them to. It’s too hot, and Kyungsoo can swear he feels them in his stomach, that he could see the outline of their dicks there if only he looked. Things are beginning to feel a little fuzzy around the edges when Jongin bites down into his shoulder and lets loose the string of blasphemous praise he’s been holding in. 

Chanyeol pulls out almost directly after Jongin comes, and rolls the condom off as quickly as he can. Jongin falls back against the bed, collapsing, and Chanyeol physically pulls Kyungsoo off his softening cock, dragging him across the bed, belly to the sheets. Then, his hand is in Kyungsoo’s hair, tugging, forcing his face up, and Kyungsoo's mouth falls open, and his eyes close as soon as he hears Chanyeol call him a fucking slut, because he knows what’s coming. 

Some of it makes it into his mouth, but most of Chanyeol’s cum ends up on Kyungsoo’s cheeks and his chin. He holds his mouth open while Chanyeol wipes his cock across his face and against his lips, swallowing only when he feels the bed depress under the weight of the larger man slumping, not far from Jongin. 

Kyungsoo is the only one of them left sitting up. He wants to go to the bathroom and crawl into the shower, but he knows he won’t be able to move for a while. His legs are aching and his ass is so sore he can’t clench his sphincter totally closed. 

He slowly makes his way down to his elbows, and shimmies to the foot of the bed. He sees Jongin weakly remove his used condom, tie it off, and toss it onto the floor. Kyungsoo looks away, and stares into the distance, eyes losing focus in a sensation of complete contentment. 

Chanyeol’s voice is soft, and a little far-away. “Are you okay, Kyungsoo?”

“Yeah. I feel good.”

“Was it fun?”

“Uh-huh. I’m sleepy now.”

“Let’s go to bed, then. We’ll clean up in the morning.” 

Kyungsoo can’t find it in himself to protest like he usually does. They’re all drained, and his men always work so hard for him, for everyone, that they deserve a night off. Kyungsoo accepts that he will indeed survive one night sweaty and sticky, even if that means he has to fall asleep with makeup and come still on his face. 

“Okay. I love you,” he mumbles, and it’s almost too quiet, but they understand him, and return the sentiment in perfect unison. Kyungsoo drifts off to sleep and dreams about sitting in the cockpit, contemplating the endlessness of a blue, blue sky.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! 
> 
> visit me on tumblr @ssubsoo, and you'll probably only regret it a little bit.


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